Most days, it felt as though the office was brimming with wasps. Constant distraction and nerves shot to pieces. You could almost feel the grey hairs diving through your scalp.
Today was different.
Today was still.
A gentle whisper of distant traffic, interrupted occasionally by the grumble of a lorry or two. It was difficult not to work at the hurtling speed I was accustomed to. I felt like I was cheating time. I dallied over tasks and leant back in my chair. Normally I only lean back in my chair to animate my frustration, at the stupidity of those that plague my day.
For now, I couldn’t care less.
Despite my clandestine ignorance toward anything but her, I was pained by something. This wasn’t the hot poker kind of pain, from work. This was a slow knife, dragged purposefully, to reveal my caged confusion.
As the day nudged along, I was no nearer to solving the mystery of my crippled mind. Paracetamol, Ibuprofen, caffeine, water. I tried them all. Despite my efforts, I could not dampen the unease
I was supposed to be meeting her tonight. Not that I’d ever dream of cancelling but I didn’t want her thinking I was any different to our previous meetings.
We’d both acknowledged, via text, what a great time we’d had. Both saying how we couldn’t wait to meet again. If I went as though I’d forgotten to brush my teeth – hardly speaking. She might think I was losing interest.
I made my way into her flat and she told me to make myself at home, motioning toward the living room. A few minutes later, she glided in with two drinks, brimming like last time, and sat closer than before.
My nerves were less but the panic, swirling from my day, became paramount.
It was then that it clicked.
Last night, before we went to bed, she said “You go through, I’ll rewind this.”
My God, she still has videos.
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